


Overflow of Love

by mousaerato



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Delirium, Dialogue Light, Double Entendre, Drowning, Fanart, Forgiveness, Hallucinations, Hand Jobs, Last Kiss, M/M, Quiet Sex, Surreal, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 12:48:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14894921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mousaerato/pseuds/mousaerato
Summary: Love is like water.





	Overflow of Love

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, I would like to thank the immensely talented [miundy](https://miundy-draws.tumblr.com/) for their wonderful art of this piece. To see something I wrote brought to life in drawing was an honor and privilege I will always appreciate.
> 
> This is the first time I have ever written something for a challenge or group. It was interesting, and I am glad they were willing to accept me.
> 
> I would also like to thank the film "The Shape of Water," whose visuals and soundtrack were touchstones for this work.

The world was a distant, melted memory in that moment. Warmth bloomed and slid across aching skin like a lacquer, painting faint flesh with urgency. Neediness soaked into drained muscles: legs spread languidly on the floor, arms dropped loosely against his sides, and chestnut hair fell in an unbroken curtain to protect the youth’s bowed head and hazy eyes. Akechi Goro heaved a contented sigh and managed to adjust his back against the wall that cradled him.

Distant light filtered into his vision, clinging to the details of the room like a fine mist. The youth could see the glossy surface beneath him, the rust-like colors above him, and the cool hues of the walls, albeit dimly. Patches of darkness billowed near him, bathed in a familiar red light; he smiled at those comforting colors as he glanced at his surroundings, waiting for something he knew would come.

_“Akechi—”_

The voice was muffled, distant, and distorted, but without hesitation, the boy looked ahead. He heard gentle patters close to him; he was certain they were footsteps. Sure enough, a familiar figure appeared in Akechi’s line of vision, cloaked in matted darkness with blood-red hands. Heat surged from his side to his stomach; his heart pounded insistently, animating him. He acted quickly, arms reaching forward as if magnetically drawn to the other’s hands. He ignored the sudden snap of pain, savoring the faint contact of his fingers interlocking with those gloved ones.

He breathed the name with relieved elation, holding it on his tongue like a sacred word: “Ren.”

Though his clothes were that of Joker, the figure was unmistakably that of the person beneath the myth and charisma. His pristine mask was gone, fully revealing a familiar, innocent face. Those fiery, gunmetal eyes had softened to soothing silver – these were the eyes of the one who patiently poured coffee and listened to Akechi’s secrets, not the dauntless thief who could order attacks on his foes without hesitation. His hands, too, were not ones that could bring harm – Amamiya Ren’s reciprocated touch was a healing one, sending soft reassurance through the other’s skin.

His eyes were heavy with the need for rest, but the boy once known as Black Mask endeavored to keep them open, taking in more of the features of the one who towered over him. Wisps of feathery pitch black hair fell along the sides of his face, highlighting the sharp, striking features against his creamlike skin. That effortless perfection once infuriated the so-called prince, but in this moment, it was comforting. This was not a rival, a threat, or a judge – this was a _friend._ Akechi Goro heaved another heavy breath and smiled; the relief had overcome his lethargy.

Amamiya Ren said nothing. Instead, he opted for a tight-lipped but sincere smile of his own, nodding as he released his grip and lowered himself onto his knees to meet the other’s seated level. With fluid movements, he closed the remaining distance between them, pouring himself between the other’s open legs. Dark, loose fabric brushed at the unforgiving striped material that bound the brown-haired boy to his grim work; the warm pressure of Ren’s muscles against his was welcome. Goro’s toes curled in response as a welcome feeling of cool comfort soaked into the material of his tight boots, gradually spreading outwards and sinking into his skin.

“Ren.” The name was all that Goro could manage as words dissolved on his tongue. Cautiously, Goro brought his heavy arms around Ren’s waist and languidly tugged him closer, craving more of that gentle pressure and contact. Ren took his hint and followed his lead, lowering his head to hover mere millimeters from Goro’s gaze. He shook away his red gloves, tossing them across the room with a _splash,_ and gently carded them through Goro’s hair, not caring one bit about the sweat that matted it down. At that simple gesture, Goro trembled, nearly flinching as he struggled to look at the kindness in his friend’s eyes. When those pale thumbs skimmed at his cheekbones, Goro nearly choked – he didn’t deserve this. How was Ren able to touch him like this? Why didn’t his fingers get sliced or bruised or broken trying?

Before he could stop himself, Goro sniffled, swallowing back a lump of emotion he couldn’t name. Ren’s eyes – those understanding, gentle eyes – held him in the moment. There was no pity there, no condescension or arrogance – his glance was one of respect, acknowledgment, even _reverence._ Maybe Goro didn’t _deserve it,_ but he wanted it – and Ren seemed all too willing to give it.

Goro’s tired, shivering fingers traced up and down Ren’s coat like raindrops, and with a simple, warm breath from Ren’s lips, he melted. More relaxation soaked into his skin to his ankles, encouraging him to move; he brought his hands into that nest of dark curls and finally allowed the distance between them to close completely. Goro tilted his head without another word, and Ren did the rest, pressing his lips to the other’s closed mouth. 

The vapor around the room seemed to dissipate in that moment. The soreness in Goro’s side seemed kilometers away, sunken down somewhere so deep as to be invisible, irrelevant. Pain meant nothing – Goro’s veins hummed with new life and hope as he let himself accept the gesture, parting his lips as he had his legs to let Ren closer and deeper. His hands tugged longingly at the other’s curls, pleased when he felt no sign of slick, warm blood. That grisly wreck of an image from weeks earlier had flooded Goro’s conscious and unconscious mind – this Ren, though, was vital and vibrant with his small movements.

Goro’s hands slipped from Ren’s hair to his back, fingers seeping into the fabric. He managed an anemic tug forward as his tongue cautiously skimmed the other’s lip, curious and hopeful as to what he’d find. Ren offered no resistance; he placed his bare hands on the other’s shoulders and went with the flow of it all. A vapor of a sigh escaped Goro’s lips at the taste of the other: warm coffee, cinnamon, spice, and chocolate, just as he’d imagined. It whet Goro’s appetite, flavors flowing to his parched tongue like a downpour on dry land – he wanted and needed more despite everything telling him he couldn’t handle it. The temperature around him shifted again – more warmth seemed to flow from Ren, and with it, Goro’s calves relaxed like his ankles had earlier, as if enveloped by another force he could not discern.

Ren met Goro’s hesitance with confidence. He broke the cautious kiss, letting the small sound of moving lips fall through the room like ripples, but quickly redoubled his efforts. His tongue dove into Goro’s mouth, skimming the roof of it before letting their tongues meet. There was a taste of salt there – tears, maybe – but the momentary bitterness only made their mingling sweeter. Small snaps, like the popping of bubbles, broke against the mechanical humming that churned in the air of the dark room. Goro’s eyes relaxed and slid shut, overtaken by the heady blend of joy and peace that seeped into his every pore.

Goro’s mind wandered between the smearing of lips to his own hands. The pads of his fingers shivered along the pitch black leather, sliding along the seams with a playful gentleness that struck him as surreal. For a moment, he recalled the first time that same left hand held a silenced gun in the Metaverse: his blood froze in his veins, his muscles tensed with concerted energy, and a lean digit snapped the tension and squeezed the trigger with calculated but borrowed cruelty. From that moment on, Goro Akechi felt stained – the taint of his misdeeds marked him beyond even the circumstances of his birth. But like that curse, he learned to live with it; after all, only he could know how his touch had changed. Until now, Goro thought himself incapable of tenderness, but as his fingers found their way to removing Ren’s coat, he proved to himself that he wasn’t only scars and bitterness and gunpowder.

Just as his those same pads finally touched Ren’s bare skin, Goro gasped. It was small – a choked half cough – but the sudden shift in pressure stunned him. Ren’s lips moved from Goro’s mouth to the corner of his lips, then to his chin and gently down his neck, as if to savor the faint taste of sweat on his skin. Goro’s fingers dug into Ren’s skin with new vigor as he heaved a shaky breath in response; vibrant sparks of energy made his hands tremble with anxiety and need, pulling the other closer to him. Goro tilted his head back, hissed a sharp sound through clenched teeth, and shifted his legs again, craving and needing more of that contact.

Ren’s bare hands settled on the tattered blue and black fabric that clung to Goro’s chest. He hesitated and watched the other’s face, waiting as confident fingers fell to the small top button that still held the garment together.

_“Is— there…way to get this o—”_

The question resonated through Goro’s chest, ears, and back. The brown-haired boy managed to refocus, opening his eyes to meet the patient smile and steady hands of the other. How could Ren be so understanding after everything that had happened? Before he could ruminate or question further, more drops of that same relaxation pooled around Goro’s knees, sweeping up any doubt. Ren was with him now, after all – that was all the answer he needed.

Goro gave a small nod and an attempt at a hazy smile, and with that, Ren carefully began undoing the meager buttons of the weary knight’s damaged armor, revealing a bone white swath of skin against the crueler, sharper stripes. A shuddered breath fell from Goro’s lips as the material finally stopped binding him; the outfit had always seemed to squeeze too hard. He had gotten used to the strain, learned to ignore the sting at his gut and the acid that licked at his throat with each order followed, but the armor always weighed heavily on him. Being freed of it made him dizzy – delirious – as if his blood pressure itself had suddenly changed.

 “Ren.” Goro savored the name like a soothing sip of dark, rich coffee on his tongue. The air felt strangely warm as it touched his newly bare, clammy skin; he hadn’t realized how cold he was without the other’s presence. Ren’s palms smoothed vapor and vigor along the surface of Goro’s chest, making his eyes flutter open to take in more of the boy before him: dewy skin, tufts of hair clinging to his face like a fine mist, and a certain smoothness like vapor. Ren always did make the impossible seem so simple, Goro thought…

For a split second, the brown-haired boy remembered the room around him. The space was unimportant – meaningless now – but even its harsh, brutal colors seemed to soften around the edges of Ren’s face, neck, and shoulders. The rust-like floor shimmered in his faint perception; the brutal gunmetal pipes complemented the pitch of Ren’s locks; even the dim algae-hued sheets of metal that clung to the walls of the room looked gentler in the thief’s presence. The colors bled together, creating a mottled sea against the slick reflection of the floor.

Goro anemically brought his hands to clamp around Ren’s wrist and waited. His eyes were aflame with urgency, refusing to look away from those warm, composed eyes that lingered on him with such care. He waited, expecting and almost hoping Ren would flinch, but when he heard a warm, affirmative hum, Goro knew he had nothing to be afraid of. He guided Ren’s hand to slide down along his chest, further to his stomach, and finally between his legs.

A contented sigh reverberated through the air, muffled by a sudden _swish_ and _glug._ Goro struggled against the strange relaxation that pooled around his thighs and hips, suddenly blended with a warm knot of tension where Ren’s hand found itself. Eventually, Goro compromised: he forced his heavy eyes to remain open, but let his legs slide and spread lazily apart with another _swish_ as his hands sent waves of sound through the room with a small patter. He didn’t want to lose this image or feeling – it was too soon, even if the pounding of his heart told him it wouldn’t last long.

In the corner of his eyes, however, he saw a strange stream of deep red that diffused along the surface of the floor.

Ren, for his part, said nothing. Two deft fingers slipped beneath the damp, dark fabric of Goro’s dreaded, doleful clothes and curled around the base of his warm, firm cock, slowly joined by others to encase it in warm pressure. Waves of comfort and pleasure crashed along Goro’s thighs and soaked into his blood, making his toes curl and crack. There was another sound – air sucked in through tight teeth – but it was not a sound of surprise. Instead, it spoke of relief; a balm against a wound.

That warm pressure tightened as Ren’s wrist gave a small twist, jerking minutely upwards before sliding back down along the length. His ministrations were slow, labored, and measured; his free hand carded through Goro’s sweat-slicked hair, down his cheekbones, and eventually brushed fingers along his dry, parted lips. Without much of a though, Goro caught those digits in his mouth, lavishing them with half-kisses and the tip of his tongue. Though a glossy thread of drool fell from his lips and clung to his chin, Goro didn’t care anymore. What did his “image” matter now? The space was ugly, but as for what was happening…

The brown-haired boy huffed out a raspy, struggled breath as he looked at that blurred, misty image of creamy skin, black hair, sincere eyes, and confident hands before him. Goosebumps blossomed along his skin and he shuddered, managing a single meager cant of his hips up into Ren’s steady movements. Everything about this – every touch, every sound, every sight – screamed of contradictions and undeservingness, but somehow, he knew they both understood. At this point, no explanation was necessary or possible.

Ren’s thumb glided along the head of Goro’s cock, smearing precum along the already slicked surface. He applied more pressure, but increased his pace, pumping at the hot length with greater ease. As for his free hand, Ren let his fingertips glide along the faint vein on Goro’s neck, making him shiver as more stimulation tickled its way through his veins. The pliant, delirious boy beneath his hands rasped out a groan in response that echoed through the remaining space in the room.

To Goro, his fellow trickster’s touch was soothingly familiar – a memory, even. Despite the white-hot tension that coiled in his groin and flashed across his torso, he relaxed into it, letting the other’s hands knead and press on every sensitive nerve however he wanted. Beyond the obvious ways it tore him apart, Goro’s double life had one less obvious side effect: _no time._ By day, he slaved away as a student and practiced his speech for public interviews and adoring fans; by night, he gave his life and took it for a cruel man whose targets were merely business interests, never personal grudges. Every second of his life was willingly yet begrudgingly sacrificed for people he barely or didn’t know – he never had a moment for himself.

For him, this was a kind of rebellion: against all expectations, against all his assignments, against all reason. Goro had wanted more than revenge, deep down – in truth, he wanted that ever-elusive normalcy that Ren seemed to find with such ease despite his own circumstances. Connection, bonds, belonging – _those_ were the wishes of the knight that fought with such vigor and valor, not simply revenge. Had the world been different, Goro managed to imagine, perhaps these touches would have happened in a bed.

Another wave of pleasure crashed over Goro, brought by persistent strokes from Ren’s smooth palm and steady fingers. His back arched and struck the metal barrier that propped him up, but the pain never came. There was only the low, muffled _thud,_ like a punch, to something much stronger than anything he could muster. Something cool lapped around his waist, making any sign of distress dissolve away. Goro bit at his lip, grunted, and let his hands slosh around to dig into his thighs before frantically reaching for the first friend he ever knew.

“Ren.” This time, the syllable was stained with sorrow. _Friend,_ Goro imagined bitterly, _some friend I was._ He knew the boy before him understood, yet those intrusive, violent images bubbled up into his own memory: saccharine smiles that hid sinister plots, the grin he suppressed when he fired the silenced gun, the lies that were only believed by his own immaturity and hubris. He told himself it was all to get closer to do his job, but deep down, the closeness would have been its own reward.

Goro’s eyes glanced downward, past the rust-tinted film that clouded his vision, and saw the look of Ren’s sweaty skin touching his own needy cock, and bucked up to meet his twists and jerks yet again. He savored how Ren changed up the pressure, tightening at the base and loosening as his fingers moved upward, then covering the entire head with his palm before restarting the steady, undulating motion. His cock twitched, overwhelmed by the _realness_ of it, and Goro found himself panting hot breaths into the hair onto Ren’s damp hand. His fingers clenched and sloshed around, fighting the urge to remain still and pliant; finally, he managed to bring his thumb to skim Ren’s cool cheek, sliding down like droplets to his waistcoat. Through sheer force of will, the tired youth managed to tear it, pulling the stripe of fabric away and letting it sink down between them with a gentle _plop._ It wasn’t much, but Goro wanted no more lies – no more barriers – to separate them. There had been enough of those for one lifetime. Before Goro could even think too hard about it, the fabric that clung to Ren’s torso had somehow completely disintegrated and melted away. All that remained were those black dress pants that pressed against the deep blue that coated his own legs.

Ren leaned closer, never stopping his work with his right hand, and pressed his forehead to Goro’s. Sweat made their skin cling together like a sticky seam, but neither seemed to mind. For his part, Goro _appreciated_ it – it was real, he thought. _This is real._ He let his eyes relax and close and pressed his mouth forcibly, messily to Ren’s, plunging his tongue deep into the other’s mouth to taste him yet again. The flavor of salt was stronger now, but it didn’t matter – all of it, even the bitterness, was exactly what he wanted. He let the tip of his tongue skim the roof of Ren’s mouth playfully before biting his lower lip, urging Ren to return his neediness. Sure enough, Ren didn’t miss a beat, tilting his head to let Goro explore deeper, but not without giving a flash of his own tongue in return.

It was all too much for him. Goro hummed in affirmation, practically moaned, and rolled his hips against the weakness and entropy that tried to claim his muscles. Warm pleasure built around his spine and danced along his thighs, blurring the borders between Ren’s kinder intentions and the searing _sting_ of what had happened before he found him. That heat and red color didn’t bother Goro when his own body was the source, but even those lines were washing away.

_“His…si—gg… I’m….on—”_

All sound – all voices – seemed impossibly distant to Goro’s ears. The sounds, however, didn’t matter to him – all was drowned out by the mechanical humming around him, the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, and by the presence of the person he cared for the most.  Though he enjoyed all their debates, all their casual conversations, even their shared confessions, words were not important anymore. Ren was here – Ren was alive – and that was what mattered.  

A cool feeling swirled around Goro’s chest. It seeped into his exposed, pallid skin, and it seemed his heart began to thump and thud more in response. Though Goro rarely noticed the rhythm of his own heart, the pounding seemed erratic to his own flimsy cognition. Even that couldn’t take away from the peace he felt in that moment; he was sunk too deeply into that calm, practically submerged in it, and it was all too alluring to fight anymore. He broke the needy kiss, breathless and dizzy, before doubling down and pressing into Ren hard enough to bruise. Ren’s own ministrations had sped up; he was close, panting from being precariously near the edge of no return.

Between his shallow breaths, Goro wondered how his life could have been different if he had simply told the truth to the thieves. He had never lied to Ren, not _really_ – but he wondered if they would have helped him, if his pride hadn’t been so blinding, if his fear hadn’t made him push everyone away. Would they have refused his request? Would they have said he got what he deserved for even once wanting to “help” Shido? Would they have called him unwanted? Would he have been hated?

 _“N_ – _”_

The sweetness on Ren’s lips – that honey he tasted in LeBlanc’s curry, the chocolate, and something indescribable – told him all he needed to know. There was no need for doubt; those questions didn’t matter. All could be resolved, absolved, dissolved. Ren made a promise, after all – and Goro knew he would keep it no matter what.

Ren broke the deep, penetrating kiss and planted one last peck on Goro’s lips before simply looking at his face. Goro was sweating, pale, waxy, and strangely cold to the touch. His pupils were wide with arousal, but unfocused and hazy. His mouth was slightly agape, and his breaths were quick and shallow. The sounds he made were small, scratchy groans that fought against the stillness of the room, defying the silence and strangeness as much as they could.

_“No…”_

Goro took one long, deep breath as more tension built up between his legs. The speed, the pressure, the warmth – it was too much. That cool sensation that built around his skin had inched upwards to his neck and chin now; every inch of him wanted only to surrender to it, be swept away, be undone by everything that was happening in that moment. His vision became dark: rust turned to blood, algae rotted to black spores, and the bright steel began to resemble gunpowder and coal. Ren’s face, however, retained its colors – though for a moment, he swore he could see through it all.

“Re—”

This time, the knight couldn’t speak his friend’s name. The word caught in his throat as his eyes went wide before slamming violently shut. He swallowed back spit, bile, and a hint of blood as he bit his lip unconsciously. That warm knot finally snapped; Goro found himself and Ren’s hand stilling as his cock jerked violently, spilling hot streaks of cum on Goro’s thighs, Ren’s hand, and upward...

Goro’s head fell forward, exhausted and spent. His breaths became slower, but remained shallow. Blood pounded in his ears, and the world went dark again. Ren’s hands departed from his form, leaving him suddenly shivering with cold. That relaxing feeling around his body and face finally made its way to his lips and nose, and filled that cracked knight’s helmet to the brim. He opened his eyes for a moment to realize that Ren had begun to fade away, sinking and disappearing into the fluid around him. They had made their peace; it was time.

With that, Akechi Goro tasted salt one last time and was swallowed up in the rising ocean water. He took a final breath, inhaling the fluids deeply, and his consciousness sank away.


End file.
